Butterfly

When you stand outside the back exit of Cybergate Mall, you will see a part of the Rizal Memorial Library and Museum. It is a beautiful building built in 1973. Along the beams of the building are intricately carved balousters that can only be described as classical. Everything is painted white. The pillars that support the ornate ceilings are the most beautiful in the city -- tall, uniformly ridged structures that briefly flourish at the top. The windows are stained glass.

They have always wanted to get married in this building.

So when they saw that it was still early, they agreed to walk around the block to the library. It would take some four minutes to get there from the mall. Neither of them has been inside before, and they wondered if it was open despite the holiday. They crossed the street and walked beside each other on the sidewalk.

Then it rained.

They ran to the iron gates of the library slouching their shoulders and ducking their heads. He asked a security guard if the library is open. It was not. At this point they were getting very wet and running back to the mall would only drench them more. So they looked around for a place to wait the rain out.

In 1985, Mr. George Te, a shrewd businessman, made a substantial fortune selling slippers. As all rich men are inclined to do, he got himself a mistress and lavished her with gifts. Of course, Mrs. Te never knew about the affair. At some point, wives will lose interest in their husbands and live their lives doing God knows what.

Mr. Te was not content to see his mistress every now and then. He wanted to live with her but he dreaded leaving Mrs. Te. He knew Mrs. Te would berate him to no end and tell anyone who is willing to listen about his indiscretion. Mr. Te felt he was a good man and his reputation must reflect this. So this matter about the mistress must be kept a secret. All good men have secrets.

And so five months after the affair began, Mr. Te bought land beside the Rizal Memorial Library and Museum. On it he built a five story building, six stories if we include the basement. He put up the headquarters of his slippers business in the basement and had the other floors rented as office space. His wife thought this was a good business venture, but she was not interested. Her lack of interest meant she would never find out that the whole penthouse floor was the exclusive residence of her husband's mistress. He would spend countless of nights in the building under the guise of working overtime. But in truth, Mr. Te could hardly be found in the basement. Every morning, he would walk the sidewalk of Jones Avenue, pass the Rizal Library and Museum, climb the staircase that led to the mezzanine of the building -- the main lobby --, ride the elevator, and press 5.

They quickly climbed the staircase and got out of the rain. She looked around and saw closed offices except for a Reproductive Health office on the upper ground floor. She read a sign on entrance hall, "Te Commercial Building, 1985." She told him she has never been here before. Neither was he. They decided to sit on the staircase and wait the rain out.

"So when are you getting married?", he asked her.

"December.", she answered smiling.

"I'm glad we had lunch together. It's been a while since I last saw you."

"Jason and I were in town. He's off somewhere else with his buddies and I was all alone in the hotel. So I might as well get together with old friends."

"Old friend," he repeated. "Do I look that old now?"

She laughed. She placed her arms behind her and leaned back. She looked at the jeepneys and cars making sloshing sounds on the street. Aaah... Cebu. Just as she remembered it from years back.

"You've told me over lunch about your business and how great it's been going. But you never told me how you are," she asked him.

"I'm fine, I guess," he lied. He followed her and placed his arms behind him and leaned back. "You know, we used to do exactly this on the soccer field during Cookout."

"Yes," she laughed. "We'd stay late passed midnight and just gaze at the stars."

"Well, we also made fun of the stupid Rampahan contestants." He laughed. She laughed.

"Didn't you join Rampahan once?" She looked at him quizzically, suppressing a smirk.

"I never did." He lied. They both knew he was lying and laughed about it.

"You wore that silly black skirt and..." she pressed on.

"I wore no such thing!" He protested. He gazed at her smiling eyes and felt a sudden stab in his heart.

There is nothing like listening to the rain. When you listen to music your mind is filled with music and you can hardly think of anything else. When you listen to a sermon, the same thing happens. But listening to the rain only megaphones whatever thoughts you may have. It's the perfect way to listen to yourself, listening to the rain. It's the sound of silence.

"I hardly know you anymore," he finally said to her. Not looking at her, but staring at the raindrops on the pavement.

"Well," she sat up and smiled big, "let me introduce myself then." She gave her hand to shake. "I'm Leslie and I'm a florist. And you?"

"Haha..." he sat up. "I'm Karl. I sell automated solutions for procurement organizations." He took her hand.

"Impressive... Do you enjoy computers then, Karl?"

"Very much so, yes. Even in college, I've always been the geek." He said shyly.

"I love geeks! I think they're the coolest. Where are you based now?"

"Hong Kong. I've lived there since after College. I'm just here for vacation, really."

"Wow! What's Hong Kong like?"

"Clean. Smells like Chinese food everywhere." She laughed at this. "And you? Where do you live?" He asked her.

"Makati. I have a shop in one of the malls there and I sell fresh flowers."

"Are you sure they are fresh?" He kidded her.

"Always." She nodded and smiled big.

"I know they are. I don't doubt it." He smiled quietly. "Have you always wanted to be a florist?"

"No, not really. I've always wanted to..." she was thinking, "paint houses."

"Haha, that's amazing!" He was sincere. He truly never knew this before.

"You know what I do? I would draw stick houses in MS Paint and color." She was facing him now and gesturing her hands wildly. "I would paint the roof some color, then paint the walls and then the windows. When I'm done I save it. I have a folder in my desktop for all my colored houses."

"In bitmaps!"

"Yes!"

"That's amazing!" He was really surprised about this. They laughed loudly together and forgot about the rain.

When the laughter subsided, he looked at her and felt the sudden need to hold her. And study her. He wanted to know everything about her. He felt this with a sense of purpose. Like he was meant to understand her. All of her.

"Why did you leave for Hong Kong right after graduation, Karl?" her question awoke him from his thoughts. She needed an answer.

"I thought I needed the job." He answered her seriously. "I needed to earn. I never knew I need more than that to live." He continued to gaze at her eyes. He was not willing to do anything else but that. "I miss you, babe."

She looked at his eyes. She wondered what those eyes have seen in the many years she has not seen him. A sense of jealousy crept in her heart. He will look at another. And perhaps many more. She will never see him again. Not like this. Her old friend. Her good man.

She looked at the street and noticed that the rain has not relented. She stood up anyway and said, "We better go back to the mall. You only get two hours free parking, right?" She smiled big and looked at him.

"Yes. How will you go back to the hotel?" He asked sadly.

"I borrowed Jason's car. But don't tell him, he doesn't know yet." She laughed.

He laughed.

They walked the four minutes back to Cybergate mall drenched in the rain. They weren't slouching this time, or ducking their heads. They walked slowly, beside each other.

The best thing about the rain is it hides the tears.

Nearby a butterfly struggled in the rain. Its wings were in beautiful green and blue iridescence, but the raindrops pinned them to the ground. A butterfly must never try to flap its wings when they are heavy with water. The butterfly did not know this. So when one wing laid flat on the wet ground and the butterfly tried to pick it up, it broke.

It will never fly again.